


Those Nights Belong to Us

by BeccaBear93



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Camping, Canonical Character Death, Coming Out, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Nightmares, One-Sided Ashley Campbell/Sal Fisher, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaBear93/pseuds/BeccaBear93
Summary: In between all of the ghost hunting and cult dismantling, they’re still just teenagers.





	1. Listen to the Radio Play All Night, Didn't Wanna Go Home to Another Fight

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to write some Salarry since I finally caught up on the chapters that have been released so far, but then I listened to “Those Nights” by Skillet and got major feels about both them, and me and one of my best friends. So then I couldn’t decide whether to continue with the plan of writing something shippy or just adorable BFFs glued together forever. At this point I'm still leaning towards shippy, but either way, they are incredibly touchy-feely friends.
> 
> This will be a collection of ficlets, but I'll warn everyone now that I don't have any set update schedule in mind. It will just get updated whenever an idea for a new scene pops into my head.

When Larry turns on the boombox to show Sal the new Sanity’s Fall album and his friend doesn’t immediately start headbanging, he knows something’s wrong. He shuts it off again, ears ringing in the sudden silence. “What’s up, Sally Face?”  
  
“Nothing, Larry Face,” Sal teases back automatically. He nods towards the stereo. “Turn it back on, I wanna hear the rest of that song.”  
  
Larry hesitates with his hand hovering over the power button, but pulls it back after a few seconds. “Not until I’m sure you’re okay, dude.”  
  
Sal sighs and walks over to Larry’s bed, falling onto it face-first and sprawling out like a starfish. “It’s nothing, really, just… Dad’s been having a rough time again lately,” he answers, but his tone says there’s more to the story.  
  
“And… what? Is he taking it out on you?” Larry asks, the first hints of anger creeping into his tone.  
  
“No, no! Nothing like that!” Sal rushes to reassure him. He turns his head to watch the other boy out of the corner of his eye. “Well… maybe. But he’s not, like, hurting me or anything. And he’s not taking it out on me _on purpose_. He’s just… stressed, and it makes him irritable. We’ve been getting into a lot of pointless arguments.”  
  
“Oh,” Larry answers. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed and rests a comforting hand on Sal’s calf. “I’m sorry, dude. I know stupid fights with your parents suck. Anything I can do?”  
  
Sal closes his eyes for a minute, enjoying the soothing circles Larry’s rubbing into his leg. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. When he opens them again, he says quietly, “Can we just… listen to the radio? I don’t really wanna think about it all right now.”  
  
Larry watches him worriedly for a long moment, but eventually nods. “’Course,” he says, standing to turn it back on. He sits on the floor when he returns, leaning back against the bed. It’s weird for the atmosphere to be so subdued while they’re listening to Sanity’s Fall. A few songs in, he turns to ask Sal’s opinion, but the boy has somehow fallen fast asleep to the roaring metal, one pigtail falling over his mask. Larry chuckles and carefully pulls the hair bands out, knowing that his friend will be irritated if he wakes up with his hair crimped. Sal continues to sleep soundly, not even twitching as he runs his fingers through his hair a few times to straighten it and pushes it out of his face. He almost never seems to have nightmares when he stays with the Johnsons, and Larry wishes he could hide Sal away in his room forever just for that.  
  
“Sweet dreams, Sally Face,” he says quietly, slouching down to rest his head on the bed and get a bit more comfortable.


	2. Nightmares (But I Can Read You Like a Book)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! It looks like the first few updates will be coming pretty quickly after all, because these two are gnawing at my brain and I've got a few more ideas for them. Also, for those for whom the ships matter: I've decided that there will be eventual Sal/Larry after all, but there will be a bit of Sal/Ash before that.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Warning for possible spoilers up through chapter 4 of the game.

When the static buzzes on his walkie talkie at 2am, Larry is instantly awake and pulling on his clothes. “You alright, Sal?” he asks after a minute of silence.

“L-Larry?” the other boy asks, trying to hide the way his voice shakes.

“Yeah, I’m here, man,” he says, keeping his voice calm for Sal’s sake despite his racing heart.

“Can I come down?”

“Of course. I’ll unlock the door, so just let yourself in, okay? I don’t wanna wake my mom up.”

“Okay,” Sal agrees, and the walkie talkie goes silent.

Larry drags the beanbag chairs out of the corner, then heads to the kitchen. He grabs a bar of chocolate out of the drawer and sets about making drinks—tea for Sal and coffee for himself, because there’s no way he’s going back to sleep tonight if his best friend’s had another night terror. The door clicks quietly as Sal enters the apartment and closes it behind himself, and Larry waves him into the kitchen. “Here, bud,” he says, handing over the mug and rubbing Sal’s back comfortingly. “Help me take the beanbags up?”

Sal nods and takes the tea gratefully, cradling the warm cup in both hands and holding it close. He’s shaking like a leaf and left in such a rush that he’s wearing only boxers and an undershirt, hair loose and sticking out every which way around the straps of his prosthetic. He follows Larry into his room silently and scoops up one of the bean bag chairs before heading up the stairs and out into the cold night air.

Larry follows, shrugging on his jacket and yanking the blanket off his bed, juggling it in the hand with the chocolate and coffee. Then he grabs the other bean bag and heads out to the treehouse. Sal is already at the top of the ladder, laying on his stomach and waiting with his arms stretched as far down as possible. Larry stretches up on tip-toes, handing up first the beanbag and then shuffling the other items around in his hands so he can pass them up, too. Sal disappears from sight, and Larry climbs up the ladder to find him sunk into one of the chairs, staring blankly at the wall.

“Here, brought you some candy,” Larry says with an attempt at a smile. Sal takes it but sets it aside, and Larry grabs the blanket and tosses it over his friend, tucking it in tight around him. He pulls the other chair close and sits down, waiting. After a few minutes, Sal shifts to loosen the blanket’s hold on him and throws half of it over the other boy. Larry takes this as a hint that Sal’s starting to come out of his own head and asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Sal finally looks at him, considering the question. Eventually, he nods. “Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse.

 _Good_ , Larry thinks. Even just _hearing_ about Sal’s nightmares can be terrifying, but if he’s willing to talk about them, that means it wasn’t one of the worst nights. He nods encouragingly, and Sal swallows nervously, a minute passing before he can get the words out.

“It—It wasn’t mom this time,” he says, and Larry’s brows furrow in confusion. “It was… my dad… and you… and Lisa.” He sounds on the verge of tears, so Larry wraps an arm around his shoulders and nudges the chocolate towards him again. Sal unwraps it and snaps off a tiny piece, popping it into his mouth and letting it melt.

“What happened to us?” Larry asks after a while.

“I… I killed you,” Sal answers, turning his gaze back to the wall. “At least, I _think_ I did. I don’t know. But you were all dead, and there was… there was _so much_ blood, everywhere. Addison Apartments was painted red.” He glances to a spot on the treehouse floor and shudders violently, quickly looking away. Larry can’t help but wonder if maybe it was a mistake to bring him out here tonight. “I only saw the three of you, but I think there might have been more. I think I might have killed… _everyone_.”

He hiccups, and Larry turns to hug him tightly. The edge of Sal’s mask digs into his neck painfully, but he ignores it. “Hey, Sal, come on…” Sal sniffles, arms coming up around Larry and clinging to the back of his shirt. “It was just a nightmare, Sally. I’m fine. We’re _all_ fine. See? I’m right here,” he says, pulling back for just a moment to look his friend in the eye. “And we can go check on our parents if you want, so you can see that they’re okay, too.”

Sal shakes his head and says quietly, “I know you’re all okay. But what if one day, you aren’t? What if it really does happen? I already killed my mom. Who’s to say I won’t kill you all someday, too?”

“Hey,” Larry says, voice turning stern. He pushes Sal out to arm’s length again and continues, “Hey, look at me, Sally Face. You did _not_ kill your mom.” He doesn’t know much about Diane or how she died, but he’s heard enough to know that Sal blames himself for it and thinks his father does too. But he knows enough about Sal to believe that there’s no way in hell that it’s really his fault. “And you aren’t gonna kill us, either. I promise.”

Sal laughs humorlessly. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Larry Face.”

“Yeah, well, I’m keeping this one whether you like it or not.”

The blue-haired boy sighs and settles back into the beanbag, gaze turning to the floor. “Please do,” he whispers, barely audible. “I don’t trust myself, but I trust you, so… Maybe if you promise, then it’ll be true.” He knows he’s deluding himself, but he wants to believe it _so badly_.

“I promise.”

“Okay,” Sal says with a nod. After a minute of silence he says quietly, “Thanks, Larry.”

“No problem, dude. That’s what I’m here for.” Larry tilts his head curiously and asks, “Think you’ll be able to fall back asleep tonight?”

Sal shrugs doubtfully, but slips down to lay as comfortably as he can on the chair. “I don’t know, but I’ll try,” he says, knowing Larry will pester him about his health if he doesn’t at least make an attempt. Larry’s the worst kind of hypocrite in some ways.

Larry nods. “I’ll be right here, Sally.” He crawls over to the cabinet and grabs a book before returning to his spot. He opens it and starts reading in the dim light that manages to make it through the window from the streetlight. Best to distract himself, since Sal will never fall asleep if he’s being stared at.

After a long time, Sal’s breaths even out. Larry glances up to make sure he’s really asleep, then turns his attention back to his book. He gulps down some more of his coffee and settles in for the night, just in case his friend wakes up again or needs to be woken up from another nightmare. A restless night is a small price to pay if it means Sal gets a restful one every once in a while.


	3. You Didn't Look Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was going to be a happy, plotless, canon-divergent fic. But then canon latched onto my brain and there are a few ideas that won’t let go. Eventually, I settled for the mostly-canon-with-some-tweaks route haha. So although it’s still quite a ways off, I’ll warn now that there’s a decent amount of angst on the horizon. There will also be some actual plot on the horizon. The main focus is still on the fluff and friendships and our boys (and girl) just being teens and going on silly adventures, though. ^^
> 
> (Also, you may notice that I’ve started adding chapter titles. They’re silly, and most of them will be stupidly long, but it’s really just for my own amusement lol. Some will be quotes from the game or lyrics from “Those Nights”, the song that inspired this whole fic, while others… not so much.)

The first time Larry sees Sal’s face, it’s a complete accident, which is… kind of disappointing. It’s not like he thinks Sal doesn’t trust him… but it would still be nice if he would open up about this one thing that so often seems to rule over his thoughts and dreams and _life_. And the fact that he ends up seeing Sal’s true face without his permission makes guilt curdle in the pit of his stomach.

But regardless of how either of them feels about it, it happens how it does, and there’s no way to take it back.

It’s just like any other day, with the two of them hanging out in the basement after school and headbanging to Sanity’s Fall. Then there’s a sudden white blur, and pain blossoming from his nose, and Larry falls to the floor more from the shock of it than from the force of whatever the fuck just hit him in the face.

Sal practically squeaks, rushing over to kneel in front of him and pry his hands away from his nose. “Oh shit, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, biting his lip.

And that’s when it hits Larry. Sal is _biting his lip_ and he can _see_ it. The thing that flew at his face is his friend’s prosthetic.

“Your nose is bleeding,” Sal says. When Larry doesn’t respond, he seems to take it as a sign that the injury is worse than it appears, and he scurries across the room to grab the box of tissues.

The truth is that he _can’t_ respond, because he’s too busy staring like an idiot and his brain has apparently completely shut down. When Sal comes back and shoves a tissue into his hand, he just blankly holds it in his lap. Sal’s brows furrow and he takes another out of the box and starts gently dabbing at the blood around his nose, wordlessly directing him to tilt his head back. Still, Larry just keeps staring. He’s fully aware of how ridiculous he’s being, but he can’t seem to stop.

He knows that Sal went through multiple surgeries, and although they seem to have done the best they could with grafting his skin, there are still numerous scars from the stitches. The worst of the scarring is around his right eye; the doctors must not have been able to do much about that portion, because there are are still clear marks from the wound. Weirdly, they almost look like bite marks. To Larry’s surprise, though, the glass eye is completely unnoticeable even with the context of the surrounding skin. If Sal hadn’t told him about it, he wouldn’t have had any idea that it wasn’t real.

Despite the many insecurities he knows Sal has about his scars, he’s still completely fucking gorgeous. Honestly, it only serves as a testament to how _strong_ he is to go through everything he has and still come out as the positive, friendly person he did. Larry can’t imagine being put through the same situations and emerging as anything other than than cold and depressed.

The left side of Sal’s face is much less damaged than the right, and when Larry’s eyes wander that way, he catches the blush rising on his friend’s cheek. His eyes snap away instantly, realizing he’s been caught staring, and he turns his gaze anywhere else. It doesn’t last long though, because his body still isn’t getting the messages from his brain, and his eyes keep jumping back to Sal. Eventually, he stops trying to fight it.

For his part, Sal steadfastly ignores it in favor of continuing to pinch Larry’s nose and wipe the blood away. “Are you okay?” he asks again after a few minutes, barely audible.

“I’m fine,” Larry answers, finally finding his voice. He grabs another tissue and wads it up, nudging Sal’s hand away to hold it under his own nose. “I—wha? Why’re you crying?!” he asks, panic immediately swelling up.

Sal just shakes his head and swipes futilely at the tears with his sleeve. After a few seconds, a laugh bubbles out of his throat and he buries his face in his hands. His shoulders shake, and Larry can’t quite tell if the shaky noises he’s making are from more laughing or crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sal answers, shaking his head again.

Larry pulls him into a tight hug and asks worriedly, “Then why are you crying?” Sal mutters something into his shirt, but he can’t make it out. He asks Sal to repeat himself, but the other boy just laughs again and says nothing.

It will be another four and a half years before Sal finally tells him what his answer was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Although I’ve known what scene I wanted this one to be about since day 1, because that conversation in the game was both adorable and heart-breaking, I couldn’t quite decide what to do with it. Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth, and I’d started seven later chapters (and finished one) before I even managed to get a _start_ on this one. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, though, or what I could work on if you didn’t! Comments are my number one source of motivation, and I won’t lie, the fact that there hasn’t been a single one on this fic so far is a little discouraging. So if you think something’s off with the characterization or anything, please feel free to say something and help me improve!


	4. Talk All Night in a Dark Room Lit by the TV Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said you could expect the next few chapters to come quickly, and then I disappeared for a month. I'm so sorry, guys! But I promise I have been working on this fic--I've got nearly 9k words written for it so far, and a whole lot more to come. It's just scattered all over the place and I've been having trouble turning it into full, coherent chapters (even very short ones like this). I'm making this my Camp NaNo project, though, so I'm hoping that will help motivate me to work on filling in all the gaps.

It’s Saturday night (or, more accurately, Sunday morning), and Larry is huddled shoulder-to-shoulder with Sal while they watch his favorite show, the one about the vampire hunter. If there’s one thing Larry’s learned from seeing that fuckwad Travis every day and hearing all the bullshit he spews, it’s that the lack of personal space in their friendship apparently isn’t “normal” for guys. If Travis was feeling particularly kind, he’d probably call it gay.

Larry’s not sure that’s quite right, but it’s close enough. If that was _all_ Travis had to say about them, maybe he wouldn’t want to punch him in the face so often.

Sal is staring at the screen with his chin resting on his tucked-up knees, but he’s obviously not paying any attention to the show. Ever since that first incident, he’s started wearing his mask less and less often when they’re alone, and Larry’s particularly happy to be able to see the dopey grin on his face tonight.

“What’s on your mind, Sally Face?”

Sal jolts, glancing at Larry before turning back to the TV. Mouth now hidden behind his knees, he says dazedly, “Ash is just… amazing, isn’t she?”

“…Yeah, she really is,” Larry agrees after a moment. He likes Ash well enough, and she’s helped him a lot in becoming a better artist, but he’s never given much thought to her beyond that. Anyone who can make Sal smile like that must be pretty damn incredible, though. A strange feeling wells up; there’s jealousy there, Larry knows that, an ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of anyone taking Sal away from him. But at the same time, he’s genuinely happy that Sal’s finally making some more friends, and he’s obviously smitten with Ash. Larry simultaneously wants to pull them far apart and push them together lips-first, and it really doesn’t make any sense. Then again, he’s come to realize that most of his feelings revolving around Sal don’t make much sense. It’s easier to stick to the simple ones than to risking fucking up their friendship.

“Todd said she’s in the same grade as us.”

“Yep.”

“Do you think… Never mind,” Sal cuts himself off, suddenly pretending to be deeply engrossed in what’s happening on-screen.

“Do I think what?” Larry gives him a teasing grin even while dreading the answer to his question.

“Nothing,” he insists, shaking his head.

“Alright,” Larry agrees, turning back to the TV. They fall into silence for a few minutes, watching B kill what must be her thousandth vampire, but eventually he can’t hold the words in anymore. He huffs and shuffles around to face his friend. “I’m sure she’ll love you once she gets to know you, Sally Face.”

Sal chuckles but doesn’t look at him when he says, “You _have_ to say that, you’re my best friend.”

“I don’t _have_ to say anything, it’s true. And if she doesn’t, then she’s an idiot and it’s her loss.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ hanging behind this little speech?”

Larry sighs and drawls out “… _But_ … You just met her. Like, two days ago, for a couple of minutes. Maybe you should try just talking to her first? Hang out with her a little before you try asking her out?”

Sal laughs and finally turns to meet his gaze, resting his cheek on his knees. “Obviously.”

Larry blinks stupidly for a minute and repeats slowly, “‘…Obviously?’”

“Well, yeah. It was just a dumb thought; I wasn’t gonna act on it. That’s why I said ‘never mind.’”

“…Oh. Okay,” Larry says, and it feels like a weight’s been lifted from his chest.

He feels petty for being so relieved.

He doesn’t say a word about it.

He still doesn’t say a word when “Sal and Larry” suddenly becomes “Sal and Larry and Ash and Todd” and the stupid war between jealousy and joy becomes an everyday occurrence. Eventually, he just gets used to it and lets it fade into the back of his mind, only to be dug up on particularly dark days when he’s left alone with his thoughts.


	5. Bringing to Life Your Dreams of Mine

They’ve known each other for about half a year when Larry finally finds out why Sal stares at the paintings on his wall so often. He would have swapped them out for newer ones long ago if it weren’t for Sal’s fixation on them. He’s never been sure whether it’s a good fixation or a bad one, though. Sal just seems to go somewhere deep inside his own mind when he looks at them.

Sal’s watching over Larry’s shoulder as he paints a desolate landscape of broken roads and abandoned buildings, when the other boy suddenly lets out a tiny gasp. Larry looks to him in question, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times, swallowing before whispering, “You… You’re painting one of my dreams.” He glances from Larry to the paintings on the wall and back again before admitting, “Those ones, too… I was terrified when I first met you and saw them… It’s like you reached inside my brain, pulled out every nightmare I’ve ever had about my mom’s death and her funeral, and stuck them all on paper.”

Larry stares at him for a long moment, confused, but knows that he isn’t lying. Eventually he asks, “Do you remember when you told me about that dream with Sanderson and her creepy pony?” Sal nods. “Well, that might have been a pretty messed up version of it, but that was something that actually happened to _me_ , right? I was the one who saw her get murdered. So I might be painting your dreams, but _you’re_ dreaming about _my_ life.”

The other boy shrugs uncomfortably. “Well, that was probably just because you told me about it. I mean, it makes sense that a story that freaky would get under my skin.”

“Yeah, but… I guess that wasn’t the only time.”

“What?”

Larry nods up at the painting of people surrounding a grave. “That wasn’t your mom’s funeral, Sally Face… It was my dad’s.”

“I—well, I guess it could just be any funeral, right? Maybe I was just projecting, then.”

“How well do you remember all those people from your nightmare?”

“…Very,” Sal admits in a small voice.

“And do they match the people in that picture?” He nods. “What about the dog?”

Sal tenses. “There’s no way I could forget it. That one was definitely mine.”

Larry pauses, a million questions rushing to the tip of his tongue, but now isn’t the time. “It—it was just a dog, tied to one of the trees. He belonged to my uncle.”

“I… I don’t know what any of this means.”

“Neither do I,” he admits. “I just wanted to point out that it didn’t just go one way.”

Sal laughs. “So, what… Now we have some kind of psychic connection?” he jokes in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from the surprisingly terrifying direction it’s headed in.

“Maybe,” Larry answers with a shrug. Nudging his friend with his elbow, he smirks and adds, “I guess we’re just that close, huh? We’re meant for each other.”

“ _Obviously_ that’s the lesson here,” Sal agrees sarcastically, but the relief is clear in his loosened stance and the quiet release of a held breath.

Larry turns back to his painting, and Sal wanders back to the beanbag chairs, collapsing onto one with a sigh. After a few minutes, Larry asks quietly, “Will you tell me about it, someday?” He doesn’t look away from his work.

“…Maybe someday,” Sal answers just as quietly.

“You know you can trust me with anything, right? I don’t know exactly what it is that you’re so scared of, but you’re safe with me.”

“I know,” he agrees earnestly. “And I want to, it’s just…”

“I know. It’s okay. I just meant… whenever you’re ready. It’s okay if that ends up being never.”

“…Thank you.”


	6. Surprise, I'm Gay!

Larry considers Todd to be a pretty good friend by now, so it’s kind of surprising how awkward it feels when they hang out alone for once. Sal and Ash are stuck at school, retaking a history test that they both failed, so the other two head to a nearby coffee shop to wait for them. They grab their drinks and take a seat at one of the tables outside, sipping silently and watching the crowds that pass by.

“Sal and I went to visit Megan yesterday,” Larry eventually says, desperate to break the tension. He hadn’t realized before now that it’s never really been just the two of them.

Todd brightens. “Oh? How was she?”

“She’s doing good,” he answers, then grimaces. “Er… as good as a dead kid _can_ be, I guess.”

He doesn’t call Larry out on the faux pas, thankfully. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her. I’ll have to go up there soon.”

“Well, you know you can always come with us. Sal goes to see her as often as possible, so… no shor—”

“Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here today,” says a voice from behind him. Larry pauses mid-sentence, and he turns to see the person who’s just emerged from the cafe. He can’t help but notice the way that Todd’s eyes light up when they land on the newcomer.

“I wasn’t planning to come,” Todd answers, standing up to greet him. Larry follows his lead. “But our friends had to stay after school, so I thought it’d be nice to wait here.” A bit nervously, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be inside, though? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

The other boy looks to be a few years older than them, and he’s got dreadlocks pulled back and an apron slung over his arm. Larry can only assume he works here, and that he’s _very_ into Todd, judging by the blinding grin he aims at him. Larry knows that look all too well. “Nah, I’m on break. I wish you’d said something, though! I would’ve come out sooner, but Blaire only found me a minute ago and told me you were here. Break’s almost over now!”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to bug you at work.”

“You know you could never bug me,” he says, placing a hand on Todd’s shoulder and squeezing gently. His smile softens. Larry swallows and turns back towards the road, feeling like he’s intruding on a very personal moment. He stares at all of the people walking and driving by without really seeing them. All he can think of is whether this guy’s feelings are returned or whether he’s stuck in the same hell Larry is, never being able to say a word about how obviously in love he is.

“Well, I gotta go. Call me tonight?” Todd nods, and the other boy glances toward Larry finally. “It was nice to meet you, uh…”

“Larry."

“Right, Larry. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replies, and Larry’s brows furrow. _What exactly have you heard?_ he wants to ask, but before he can even decide whether that’s a good idea, the other boy is running back through the doors. “See you later, you two!”

“Yeah, see you,” he answers the empty space in front of him.

Silence falls for a few moments, until Todd takes a deep breath and says, “That was Neil. He’s…” He trails off, glancing around nervously like Travis might pop out from behind a corner at any moment. Then he smiles shyly and finishes, “He’s my boyfriend.”

Well, that answers that question.

“Oh,” Larry replies intelligently. It comes out a bit strangled, and he hopes the other boy doesn’t take it or his shell-shocked expression as anger or disgust. “That’s cool. So you… like guys, then?” he asks, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

He nods. “Surprise, I’m gay!” he says with a self-deprecating smile, hands spread in a wide shrug.

Larry nods in acknowledgment and slowly backs up to sit down in his chair again. Todd’s brows furrow in concern and he sits across from him. After a long minute he asks with dawning comprehension, “Do… Do _you_ , Larry?”

Larry looks up at him, staring blankly until the question registers. “I, uh… I dunno,” he answers with a nervous grin. He tries to meet Todd’s gaze, but his eyes dart away and back again and again. Eventually he admits in a near-whisper, “I guess I like _one_ guy, anyways.”

Todd watches him silently for a minute, waiting in case Larry has more that he needs to say. He doesn’t. “…Oh,” Todd breathes after a bit, the word falling out of his mouth almost without his permission.

Larry glances up again and knows instantly that his friend’s figured it out. He swallows, then nods, a manic laugh bubbling out of his throat.

“Does… that guy know?”

He barks out another laugh. “No, and he _never will,_ ” Larry says pointedly.

“Part of me wants to ask ‘why not?’ or say you should just tell him, but… I get it,” Todd says with a pitying smile. “It’s hard. And it feels like it could be the end of the world if you mess it up.”

“…Yeah.”

“Well… Just know that I’m in your corner, whatever you decide to do.”

Larry stares at him silently for another minute. Then he sighs loudly and a small, grateful smile crawls onto his face. “And I’m in yours,” he promises.


	7. Drive Anywhere But Here, as Long as We Forget Our Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, sorry I’ve been away for so long, guys. I kind of lost inspiration on this one, despite having a ton of ideas left for it, and this chapter in particularly was just unbelievably hard to get out for some reason. Then, just when I was ready to spend NaNoWriMo working on my Hannibal fics, the trailer for the fifth episode was released and all my plans changed. Now I’ve got a deadline of December 13th before all of my theories are probably disproven, so… Here we go, I guess!
> 
> On a side note, there are a few scenes in here that I was planning to take out and put in as “chapter 7.5” because they include a weird POV change and focus on the blooming of an unexpected friendship between Neil and Ash (and also a completely unplanned revelation about Ash that I just kind of decided to run with)… but then I realized that this chapter is already stupidly long compared to the others and 500 words wasn’t going to make that much of a difference, so I just left those scenes in here instead.

When Ash shows up at Todd’s apartment for the gang’s weekly movie night and falls onto the couch with an enormous grin, the others just stare at her. After a long minute, she rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically. “Is _nobody_ going to ask me?”

Sal laughs and decides to play along. “What happened to make you so happy, Ash?”

She beams at him and pulls a card out of her pocket, turning to each of them in turn so they can all see it.

“Holy shit, you got your license!” Larry says. He pulls her into a hug and ruffles her hair a bit, laughing at her quiet huff as she smooths it back into place. “Congrats, dude!”

“Thanks, Larry,” Ash replies, practically bouncing in her seat. “ _So_ … I was thinking maybe we should go somewhere to celebrate. I could drive us all out to a campground for the weekend or something!”

“That sounds awesome!” Sal says. Larry nods in agreement.

“Um… Ashley, you do know that you’re not supposed to drive with so many people in the car until you’ve had your license for—” Todd finally catches the twin glares that Sal and Larry are shooting him and gives them a sheepish look. After a few more seconds, he grins and shrugs. “Alright, I’m in.”

“Of course, Neil can come, too!” Ash says, making Todd blush just a bit and duck his head to hide his smile.

“Will all five of us and camping gear fit in your mom’s car?” Larry asks skeptically.

She shrugs, unconcerned. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we’ll make it work.”

* * *

They do, barely. Neil gets the front passenger seat by default, since he’s the “guest” and is oldest and tallest, leaving Sal, Larry, and Todd to squish into the back along with the last backpack that wouldn’t fit in the trunk. Larry tries very, very hard not to notice how Sal’s practically in his lap, but Todd makes that even more difficult by shooting smirks at him over the other boy’s head every once in a while. Of course, Sal doesn’t notice any of this, but he does notice when Larry flips Todd off after the fifth time. Just his luck.

“What on earth is going on?” Sal asks as he glances between the two of them, obviously amused.

“Todd’s being an asshole,” Larry mutters, aiming for a glare, but he does a poor job of hiding his grin.

“Only because Larry’s being an idiot,” his friend counters, that goddamn smirk growing even wider.

Sal glances back to Larry, waiting for either another comeback or some sort of explanation, but he just shrugs. Unable to come up with any excuses, he leans forward between the seats and asks, “Are we there yet?”

Ash glances at him in the rearview mirror, one eyebrow raised. “What are you, five?”

“Maayybee…” Larry drawls.

Neil chuckles and glances at the map spread out over his lap. “I think we’ve still got about an hour to go. Sorry, bud.”

“Do you think you two can be mature adults for that long?” Ash asks, voice tinged with laughter.

“Pfft. Why would I wanna do that? Being an adult is so _boring_ ,” Larry answers.

At the same time, Todd says, “Well, I can, but I think it’s a good thing that Sal’s between us, or Larry might’ve mauled me by now.”

Sal drops his head into his hands, giggling helplessly. “ _Please_ ,” he says sarcastically. “You’re _just_ as bad as he is. You’re just goading him now!”

Todd raises his hands, grinning. “Okay, okay, you got me. But it’s just so fun. He makes it so easy!”

“I hate you so much, Todd,” Larry says, glowering.

“Nah, you know you love me,” he tosses back, with a quick glance at Sal and an eyebrow waggle. He says nothing more, but Larry can hear his teasing voice ringing loud and clear in his head, saying, _But you love_ him _more!_

Ash and Neil glance at each other with matching expressions of exasperated fondness, silently shaking their heads before turning back to the road.

* * *

Amazingly, both Larry and Todd survive the drive. Sal is nearly in hysterics by the time that they get to the campground but still has no idea that he’s the cause for their dramatics.

“Okay, time to cool off, boys!” Ash shouts when they get out of the car and Larry lunges for Todd, but she’s laughing anyways.

“Come on, honey,” Neil says, wrapping an arm around Todd’s shoulders and gently directing him away from the rest of the group. “Maybe it’s time to stop taunting him for a while?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Todd says in a terrible attempt at an innocent voice. He ruins the illusion by glancing at Larry’s bright red face over his shoulder and chuckling.

Neil hums skeptically. “Of course you don’t. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Alright, alright.”

As the couple wanders off, Ash and Larry open up the trunk and haul out the tent. “I got this with my dad years ago,” Larry says with a laugh, “Back when he still thought we’d actually be able to convince other families to go camping with us. It’s supposed to be able to fit like eight people comfortably, I think.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Sal says, holding onto the bag tightly so the other two can tug the tent out of it.

It’s not easy, but between the three of them, they manage to figure out how to set it up, and finish before Todd and Neil get back. Then the boys drag the backpacks and sleeping bags in, while Ash sets up their chairs around the fire pit. When she crawls into the tent, she finds everyone else sitting or laying on top of their sleeping bags. “So I guess I’m… over here?” Ash asks, crawling to the far right side, where the only undisturbed one rests.

“Uh… Yeah, sorry. We kinda all just fell onto ours without planning at all,” Larry says. Although the thought of making her sleep in the middle of a tent full of guys makes him a little uncomfortable, he offers, “You can trade with me if you want, though.”

“Or me,” Todd pipes up from the left side.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she answers with a smile. Teasingly, she adds, “Besides, this just means that Sal and I can hang out after all you _kids_ fall asleep early.”

“…You know, I kind of wanna argue, but I’ll probably be out like a light by ten,” Neil says with a laugh.

“I’ll… stay up as late as I can,” Todd says, though he doesn’t sound confident that’ll be very long.

Larry, on the other hand, just laughs. “Sorry, but you’ll be stuck with me too for a while. It takes me forever to fall asleep even when I _want_ to.”

“Yeah, we’re both kind of night owls,” Sal says, excitement for the night clear in his voice.

“Sounds good to me,” Ash says, sliding down to lay on her back. She flings her arms out wide with a dramatic sigh and ends up smacking Sal in the chest. “Sorry!” she says, panicking, but he just laughs around a sputter and pushes her arm back. After a few minutes of silence, Ash is the one to finally point out, “I think your dad was exaggerating _just a bit_ , Larry.” She squirms further under the canvas that’s falling over her face in an attempt not to squish Sal.

“…Yeah, I think you’re right,” he admits with a chuckle. He sits up to lean out of the door and grab the bag that the tent was in. After a few seconds, Larry lets out another laugh. “Or _the bag_ exaggerated and he was just reading off of it.”

“Maybe we should’ve brought two tents. This one is a little cramped for five people, and Ash should have some privacy,” Sal says worriedly.

“Or maybe we should’ve brought _three_ , so you and Larry could have your own,” Todd says, and though his words are directed at Sal, his eyes are glued to Larry’s face and he’s wearing that shit-eating grin again.

“You mean so you and Neil could have your own,” Sal teases, laughing when Larry reaches across Neil to smack Todd in the face with his pillow.

“That too,” Todd agrees easily, blocking the pillow long enough to take off his glasses and set them aside. Then he grabs his own, and the war is on.  
Neil and Ash carefully crawl out of the fray, laughing. “This isn’t the sexy pillow fight scene I was promised by every high school and college movie ever,” Ash says, watching her boys with a grin.

Neil eyes her for a minute before saying cautiously, “I’m _trying_ not to read into that statement, but…”

Flashing her smile at him, she shrugs and wraps her arms around her legs. Quietly, almost conspiratorially, she says, “I think we’re _all_ at least a _little bit_ gay here, aren’t we?”

He considers this for a bit before responding just as quietly, “I don’t know you all well enough to make a judgement there, but from what Todd has said and what little I _have_ seen… Yeah, probably.” Ash barks out a laugh, and he can’t help but join in, glad that the others are too distracted to pay any attention to their conversation.

Ash watches them for a few minutes, eyes locked on Sal. Distractedly, she says, “But I think that Sal th—nevermind.” Neil gives her a questioning look, and she shrugs. “It’s not for me to say, and I’m not even sure about it anyways. Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said anything in the first place; now I just made you curious, and that’s pretty mean when there won’t be any payoff.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I get it. Everyone has their secrets. Besides, curiosity killed the cat, and I’d rather not be that cat.”

Ash looks at him, head tilted and a bemused smile plastered on her face. “You’re an… interesting person, Neil.”

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” he says with a chuckle, “and I could say the same to you.”

* * *

“Okay, who knows how to grill?” Sal asks, standing over the campground’s rusty grill with a package of hot dogs in one hand and the other planted on his hip. “Because it’s definitely not me.”

Larry laughs and grabs the package out of his hand. “They’re just hot dogs, dude. It’s easy. I mean… probably.” He shrugs. “I used to grill up fish with my dad all the time. Not on one of _these_ ancient things, but… same idea, right?”

“This’ll be simpler,” Ash says, taking a seat in one of the lawn chairs. She holds up a few long sticks and asks, “Anybody have a pocket knife?”

Larry holds up one finger and squats to dig through his bag, eventually standing back up with a triumphant smile. “Here ya go,” he says, passing it over along with the hot dogs.

“Thank you,” she says, sing-song. After a few seconds of carving at the stick, she holds it up and sticks one of the hot dogs on the sharpened end with a shrug. “We can just roast ‘em like marshmallows.”

“Won’t they explode?” Sal asks dubiously.

“No, I think that’s only in the microwave,” Todd answers, sitting down next to Ash. “You have to keep turning it and not leave it over the fire for too long, though. They burn really fast.” Ash nods in agreement and starts passing around the sticks and hot dogs.

“Okay, that was way easier,” Larry admits once they’ve all started eating.

Todd nods and takes another bite before asking, “Speaking of roasting marshmallows, did we bring any?”

They all glance around at each other, faces falling, until Sal laughs. “I haven’t been camping in _years!_ There’s no way I’d go now and _not_ bring marshmallows! There’s a giant bag in my backpack, plus graham crackers and chocolate, of course.” Ash holds up a hand and he high-fives her, grinning.

“Good going, buddy!” Larry says excitedly.

“You know what goes well with s’mores?” Neil asks. The others turn to him with matching expressions of curiosity. He grins and waggles his fingers at them. “Ghost stories!” A beat passes, and then he blanches. “Oh god, I’m sorry. That’s probably something you guys would wanna get away from for a while, huh?”

Ash hunches in on herself slightly, but Sal just laughs. Teasingly, he says, “As long as it won’t scare _you_ too much that all of our ghost stories are _true_ …”

* * *

“I regret ever asking for this,” Neil decides a few hours later.

Larry laughs. “What? Why? Most of our ghost stories are _fun_. Sal’s probably _friends_ with more ghosts than I can count!”

“Yeah, but the freaky ones are _really_ freaky. And you witnessed a murder!”

He shrugs. “Yeah, we’re probably all gonna be scarred for life,” he says a little too lightly, “But at least it’s never boring!” Sal and Todd nod along, but Neil can’t help but notice the way that Ash has been purposefully zoned out for a while, staring into the sky as the stars begin to appear. He makes a mental note to ask her about _her_ view on the whole thing later, but decides not to make a scene out of it when everyone else is so happy and she doesn’t really look like she wants to talk.

“I think it’s _your_ turn to tell some scary stories!” Sal teases. “Think you can one-up us?”

“Well, I can certainly try…” Neil says, taking a deep breath. “This one starts, as most scary stories do, with a bunch of teenagers in the middle of nowhere…” Ashley finally looks at him, eyes brightening a bit as she tunes back in to the conversation. Maybe it’s not _ghost stories_ that bother her so much as _being a part of them._ He decides to give it his best shot and hopes it’ll put a smile back on her face.

* * *

“We should get ready for bed soon,” Todd yawns after they’re all stuffed with s’mores and have run out of scary stories.

“Yeah, probably,” Ash agrees, nodding. They all stand, and she holds up a hand to stop the others as she crawls into the tent. “Um, sorry guys, but can you wait a minute?”

“What? Why are we all being kicked out?” Larry asks.

“Because I need to change, and I’m not gonna do it _out there!_ There’s only like twenty feet of woods between us and the next campsite!”

“…Oh, right. Sorry,” he says with a sheepish grin. They all hover awkwardly outside, facing away from the tent, until she unzips the door and pokes her head out again.  
After a few moments of silence, Ash climbs out and says with a giggle, “You guys can go in now, you know. I’m not gonna make you stand outside in the cold all night.”

Sal laughs nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck, and Todd shoots him a sympathetic smile. Neil just rolls his eyes good naturedly and ducks to enter the tent.

Once the boys have changed and everyone’s settled in for the night, Ash waits until Todd and Neil are asleep before glancing to Sal and Larry with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She coughs quietly to get their attention, then motions toward the tent door with her head. They follow her out and zip it closed again before squatting in front of the fire pit.

“I guess Todd forgot about trying to stay up late,” Larry says as he gets the fire going again.

“Guess so,” Sal says, chuckling. “But that’s his loss.”

“Yep,” Ash agrees. She falls back into her chair and looks to the sky, taking a deep breath. “I wish we could see the stars this well back home.”

The boys take their seats and follow her gaze. “Yeah, it’s nice,” Larry says. “Maybe we should get a telescope or something and see if we can see anything from the apartment roof.” Sal nods in agreement, and Ash flashes them a grateful smile.

“Thanks for not making fun of me.”

They glance back down at her, brows furrowed. “Why the hell would we do that?” Larry asks, a little concerned.

Ash shrugs. “I dunno. I mean, _you_ wouldn’t, I know that. It’s kind of cheesy and nerdy though, right?” she asks, laughing self-deprecatingly.

“No, it’s really not,” Sal says, squeezing her shoulder. “Why would wanting to see the stars be nerdy? Besides, nerdy is cool,” he adds with a silly grin.

Larry watches her silently for a minute before asking, “…Has Travis been giving you shit again?”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s not Travis. It’s not anyone but myself, really.”

“Good,” he replies. “I mean, not good that you’re giving yourself shit about daring to _enjoy something_ , but good that nobody else is.”

Sal sits back in his chair, looking back to the sky. “We’ll get that telescope and look at the stars together,” he promises, and that seems to be the end of the conversation. Ash gives him another crooked smile and follows his lead. After a few more seconds, he suddenly points up and shouts, “Bat!”

“What?” Larry asks. The other two look to Sal, but he just keeps frantically pointing up.

“There’s a bat! No, two of them!”

“Holy shit!” Larry says when he finally looks to where Sal is pointing.

“There’s a lot more than two,” Ash says, standing up in her excitement. “It’s kind of hard to see in the dark, but look by the trees over there!” She holds her hand up as though she could convince one to land on it like a butterfly, laughing in delight when one flies towards them and swoops a bit lower.

“They really are missing out,” Larry says, gesturing towards the tent with a smirk.

Sal glances at him and giggles. “You look weirdly happy about that.” When his friend only shrugs in response, he asks, “What’s going on with you and Todd today, anyways? Are you mad at him about something?”

A blush is the last reaction Sal’s expecting, but he decides that it’s probably just a trick of the flickering campfire light. “Nah, not really,” Larry answers. “He’s just giving me shit about something, so I have to get back at him at least a _little bit_.”

“What’s he giving you shit about?” Sal asks, forehead wrinkling.

“Nothing,” he says a little too quickly, and Ash chokes on a laugh.

Sal turns his stare back to her and says slowly, “…Why do I feel like I’m the only one missing something obvious here?”

“I think you are,” Ash says, grinning, “But you shouldn’t worry about it too much. They’re just being idiots. _Especially_ Larry,” she adds pointedly.

“Alright…” Sal says warily. Glancing between his friends, he asks, “You’d tell me if it was something important, right?”

Ash stares at Larry, who shrugs uncomfortably. “Of course, dude.”

“Okay…”

“Let’s just have some fun?” Larry pleads. Directed mostly at Ash, he adds, “This is really not a conversation I wanna have today.”

“As long as you have it someday,” she sighs. Standing, she brushes imaginary dirt off her pants. “Anyone want some more s’mores?”

“‘Some more s’mores,’” Sal repeats with a snicker. The other two roll their eyes at him, and he sticks out his tongue. “Fine, yes, I do, please.”

“Coming right up!”

* * *

The three of them finally crawl back into the tent around the same time the sun begins to rise. They’re out as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

Larry wakes up only a few hours later, fuzzy-headed and uncomfortably warm. He groans and tries to wriggle his upper half out of the sleeping bag, only to realize that it’s heavier than it should be. He blinks awake, staring at the tent ceiling in confusion. Then he glances down and realizes that Sal is draped halfway across him.

Cue the internal screaming.

Slowly, carefully, he pushes Sal’s arm off his chest, but Sal just groans and curls in closer, burying his face in Larry’s shirt to hide from the light.

_Okay, that plan’s not going to work, then._ He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. It’s not like they’ve never slept close together, after all. They’ve spent countless nights curled up with their beanbags pushed close together in the treehouse, or with one of them passing out on a bed and the other on the floor right next to it.

That’s not quite the same as waking up with your best friend ( _who yes, okay, shut the hell up Todd, maybe you have a_ massive fucking crush _on_ ) laying basically on top of you, though.

He glances around the tent and is relieved to find that the others are already gone. At least that’s one problem solved, then. Then he looks down to Sal and barely restrains a groan. _Why does he have to be so fucking adorable?_

Sal is sleeping peacefully somehow, despite the fact that he’s wearing his prosthetic, and Larry suddenly realizes that he can’t remember the last time he saw Sal asleep with it on.

He takes another deep breath and closes his eyes. He can’t bear to disturb him, so… he’ll just go back to sleep. It still seems early judging by the quality of light shining through the tent, and if he’s asleep, then he won’t have to think about it.

It takes a lot longer than he’d like to fall back asleep, but the next few hours are the deepest, most pleasant sleep he’s had in years.

* * *

When Larry wakes up again, Sal is gone. He hopes that Sal had disentangled himself long before waking up, because it might lead to a very awkward conversation if he awoke to the same situation Larry had.

He changes and crawls out of the tent to find the others hanging out around the campfire, eating an incredibly healthy breakfast of Lucky Charms and whispering so as not to wake him. They all look up when they hear his footsteps approaching, though, and they wave and give their good mornings. Todd is already wearing that goddamn smirk, and Larry is sure that his friend has never frustrated him more than he has in the past 24 hours.

“Sleep well?” he asks.

“Fantastic,” Larry answers, leveling a glare at him. He heads over to the picnic table and focuses on pouring his cereal into one of the paper bowls just so he won’t have to look at them. The memory of this morning is stuck in his head, and he’s positive that he must be red as a tomato, despite how hard he’s trying to not let it get to him. _It’s not a big deal,_ he reminds himself, to no avail.

He can only stall for so long, so eventually he turns back and takes the last open seat—between Sal and Todd, of course. It figures.

To his surprise, Sal is staring down at his food, spacing out and not joining in the conversation around him. “Everything alright, man?” Larry asks, nudging Sal’s leg with his foot.

Sal glances up at him quickly before focusing on his bowl again. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says a little too quickly. After a few moments, he tacks on, “Maybe just a little sad that we already have to leave today. It was fun.”

“Hey, we’ve still got hours before we have to go home,” Larry says, trying to cheer him up. He can’t see Sal’s face to know for sure, but he gets the feeling that he’s failing.

There’s a sudden tap on his shoulder, and he turns to see Todd standing up and gesturing towards the tent. “I thought you might wanna see something.”

Larry’s brows furrow, but he follows cautiously and waits while Todd digs through his bag. Eventually, he emerges with a camera and a triumphant grin. Dread grows in the pit of his stomach as he stares at it, but Larry still asks, “…What’s that?”

“A camera,” Todd answers, sitting back on his heels. Larry stares at him, unamused, until he gives in and says, “I thought you might like a souvenir of the trip.”

“I hate you,” Larry says, and for a moment, he actually believes it. Panic is welling up inside him, and he repeats, “I hate you so much. What the fuck are you gonna do if Sal sees that? How am I supposed to explain that away?”

“Why would you have to explain anything?” Todd asks. That smirk has finally dropped and he’s starting to look worried, as if he can sense that Larry is genuinely upset now. “ _You_ didn’t do anything. _Sal_ was the one who cuddled up to you in his sleep, right?”

Larry shushes him, finger pressed to his mouth, and glances quickly at their friends outside. “I—I just… I don’t wanna fuck anything up. Why are you acting like this? I thought you said you were in my corner!”

Todd sobers instantly, glancing away and swallowing loudly. When he finally looks back up a minute later, he’s wearing an apologetic expression. “Sorry, I… I was just having some fun. You were getting so riled up, but I didn’t think you were seriously upset about any of it. You know I wouldn’t purposefully do anything to hurt you and Sal, right?”

Larry slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees and takes a few deep breaths before answering. “I _wasn’t_ upset, not really. But that’s going too far, man.” He sighs but adds on after a few seconds, “And I know you wouldn’t. Sorry.”

The other boy shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. You’re right. I took it too far. I got a lot of other good pictures yesterday, so I still want to get this developed,” he says, holding the camera up, “But I’ll toss that one right away. I promise.”

Larry watches him for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. Thanks,” he says, gaze falling to his hands in his lap while he tries to calm his racing heart.

“I… I think Sal already knows, though.”

“What?” Larry asks, head snapping back up to stare at him. Any progress he’d been making in calming down is instantly ruined.

“I didn’t say anything, I swear!” Todd says, holding his hands up in surrender. “He just seemed really embarrassed when he came out this morning, and he hasn’t said much since then. Maybe you should talk to him about it.”

Larry considers this for a moment. He _knows_ it’s a good idea, and he and Sal have always been good about talking things out. It could save them from a much more humiliating moment down the line. But when he thinks about how that conversation would go… “ _Nope_. That is _not_ happening, sorry. If he’s not going to mention it, neither am I.”

Todd sighs. “Fine, but you know you’ll have to face all of this sooner or later, right?”

He nods. “I know. I can’t avoid it forever. But I’m choosing ‘later.’ Much, much later. As much ‘later’ as I possibly can.”

Todd opens his mouth to argue, but eventually closes it with a sigh and a shake of his head. “You two are impossible.” They sit in silence for a bit before he says, “It’s your funeral, though, so if that’s what you want…” He drifts off for a moment, sighing again before he continues. “I’ll stop messing with you. I promise. But if you ever change your mind and decide to stop being a _blind moron_ , then… I’m here. Whatever happens, I was serious. I’m on your side.”

Larry wants to object to the insult, but he knows it’s probably well-deserved, so he chooses to ignore it instead. “Thanks.” He gives his heart another minute to slow before standing back up. “We should get back out there before they start wondering what’s going on.”

“Alright.”

They aim for casual as they head back to their chairs, but Sal is staring at them. “What’s up?” he asks Larry worriedly.

“Nothing. Todd was just showing me his camera. He took some pictures of the trip and was wondering if I’d want copies when he gets them developed.” It’s not _exactly_ a lie, after all.

“What about the rest of us, Todd?” Sal asks, and Larry laughs at the teasing tone. “I want those pictures, too!”

Todd glances at Larry, then plasters a grin on and looks back to Sal. “I’ll get copies for everyone, don’t worry. I just wanted to see if Larry would give me his… artistic opinion once they’re ready.”

Larry snorts, but it goes unnoticed by the others, who are suddenly clambering around Todd. “We should get a group picture!” Ash says excitedly. “Just one? Please? I don’t think we have any pictures with all of us yet!”

“Sounds good to me,” Sal agrees.

“I’ll go get the camera again,” Todd says with a laugh.

They clump together as closely as possible, and Larry finds himself laughing as he’s squished between his friends, one arm wrapped around Sal’s side and the other on Ash’s shoulders. He can feel the bunny ears she poses over his head but lets it go without saying anything. Sal grabs onto his shoulder and stands on tiptoe to try and squeeze into the frame better and throws his other hand up in a peace sign. Neil towers over them behind him, and Todd darts in front of them at the last second as the camera counts down, squatting slightly so he doesn’t block anyone’s face.

It comes out absolutely perfect.


	8. Green-Eyed Demon

Larry doesn’t realize that Ash has never been inside his apartment until she’s wandering around his room, staring wide-eyed at all the paintings on the floor and covering the walls. Too late, he wishes that she was here for the first time under less awkward circumstances.

“These are incredible, Larry,” she breathes, sounding completely genuine. He flushes a bit, but doesn’t let it distract him. He called her over for a reason, after all.

He hovers over the bed, then changes his mind and falls into a beanbag chair, gesturing for her take the other one. Maybe this conversation will be slightly less uncomfortable if they’re on an even level. Larry takes a deep breath and purses his lips, trying to figure out how to start. Ash saves him the agony by asking without preamble, “So… Is this about the camping trip?”

He nods. “Well, sort of.”

“Are you upset about what I said?”

Head tilted, Larry asks, “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re trying to hide your feelings from Sal… Maybe I gave too much away. You and Todd were being really frustrating, but that didn’t give me the right to say anything about it. That’s _your_ secret to keep or tell.”

“No!” he blurts out, shaking his head. “I mean… Maybe I’d be a little upset if he understood, but… no. That’s not why I wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to ask how you knew, and… why you weren’t mad.”

“I don’t know why on earth you’d think I’d be _mad_ , but… I knew because you’re obvious,” she says with an unapologetic giggle. “I can practically see little cartoon hearts in your eyes every time you look at him, and… I can tell you’d do anything for him. I’m a little jealous, to be honest.”

“Right,” Larry says with a nod. “That’s why I expected you to be mad. You and Sal are… kind of a _thing_ , right? I mean, not like… I’d like to think that he’d tell me if you two were _dating_ , but… You like each other, right? So it makes sense that you’d be angry, or jealous, or—”

“Larry,” she cuts him off with a gentle smile. “You can stop rambling. I meant that I’m jealous of _Sal_ , having someone who looks at him like that, someone who would probably find a way to bring him the stars in the sky if he asked.”

“…Oh,” Larry says, feeling his face heat. “I, um… I don’t know if I’d go quite _that_ far, that’s saying… a lot…” He trails off as Ash just watches him with a tiny, knowing smirk. He turns away slightly, letting his hair slip from behind his ears and hoping it’ll conceal his bright red cheeks.

“Anyways, to answer your question…” she eventually says, finally letting him off the hook. “I _do_ like Sal, but… I don’t know yet whether or not it’s in the way that you’re thinking. I’m… not great with romance. We’re only in high school, and there’s so much happening _all the time_ that I never really get a chance to just stop and sort out my own feelings. And I know _he_ likes _me_ , but I don’t think I’m the _only_ person he’s interested in.”

Part of him wants to question her, to pretend that he has no idea what she’s talking about. After all, Sal talks about her all the time but has never mentioned liking anyone else… but he can’t play dumb when Ash is giving him _that_ look. She’s implying that _he’s_ that other person, and she won’t let him get away with acting like he doesn’t understand. He desperately wants to believe it, but he can’t. Besides, if it was true… what would that make _them_? Rivals in love? The thought is a little sickening. Sure, he gets a little jealous of Ash sometimes, but he’d never want to _fight_ her for anyone. He’d never purposefully come in between two of his best friends if being together would make them happy.

Hoping to derail this surprisingly depressing train of thought, Larry asks, “But… if you already know that he likes you, shouldn’t you… I don’t know, _talk_ to him about it or something?” He rubs the back of his neck in discomfort, glancing at Ash out of the corner of his eye.

She shrugs. “Not until I figure myself out. And until I give _him_ a chance to figure himself out, too.” Ash lets out a loud sigh as she climbs to her feet. Turning to face him and shrugging again, she says, “Maybe that’s cruel of me, just letting him… stew in it, or whatever. But I’m not ready to bring it up. If he ever decides to talk to me about it, I’ll deal with it. But until then, or until _I_ get my shit together, talking about it wouldn’t get us anywhere. Well… not anywhere good, at least.”

Larry gives her a dubious look but says, “I guess that makes sense…”

“Was that all you wanted to talk about?” she asks, and he nods.

“Sorry, I guess it was pretty rude of me to call you out just to ask about that,” he says sheepishly. “We could just… hang out for a while, if you want. I didn’t wanna make things weird.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” she says with a crooked smile. “Don’t feel obligated just because you want to avoid ‘making things weird,’ though. They won’t be. We’ve all been dealing with this ‘feelings’ shit for a while now; I’m sure we’ll get past it if we want to, no problem.”

Larry laughs. “I mean, it’s not that easy to ‘get past’ in my experience, but I get what you mean. But don’t worry, I’m not asking because I feel obligated. It’s just been a while since just the two of us have hung out, right? And I’m pretty sure this is the first time you’ve ever been over here.”

“Yeah, I guess it has been a pretty long time,” Ash agrees. Suddenly, her thoughtful expression changes into a mischievous smile. “I bet you’ve got some awesome video games hidden around here though, don’t you? Think I could raid ‘em?”

He chuckles and crawls over to the TV stand, sliding open the door and gesturing inside a bit dramatically. “Raid away,” he says. “Just try to choose something interesting with a multiplayer mode.”

“ _So_ jealous,” Ash says, but she’s grinning giddily. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can find _something_.”

Larry sits back in his beanbag chair, closing his eyes with a smile. If there’s one thing Ash is right about, it’s that all this ‘feelings shit’ is confusing. But he wants to believe she’s right that it’ll all work out, too.


	9. Jukebox Hero

“So? What’s this cool new thing you wanted to show me, Sally Face?” Larry calls as he walks into Sal’s apartment. He doesn’t knock; Sal already knows he’s coming and has told him a million times not to bother, and Henry is hardly ever around anyways. Even when he is, he’s used to Larry coming and going at all hours of the day by now.

Larry starts to open Sal’s bedroom door when he gets no response, but Sal flies into the doorway and holds out a hand to stop him. “Go sit on the couch!” he says with a laugh.

“Okay, I’m going, I’m going!” Larry says, putting his hands up in surrender as Sal shoves him out the door. He falls into the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Obviously he’ll be waiting a while for Sal to get his surprise ready.

…Or not.

Sal appears just a minute later, grinning excitedly and attempting to hide something behind his back. It doesn’t work very well. The guitar’s way too big to conceal easily, but Larry just smiles and lets Sal have his moment. The other boy carefully pulls it around in front of himself, revealing a red and white electric beauty. He bounces in place, awaiting his friend’s reaction.

“Holy shit, man!” Larry says, standing up to examine it closer. “That’s awesome! How’d you get your hands on this?”

Sal shrugs. “I saved up my allowance for… a while,” he answers with a sheepish grin, “And bought it at a pawn shop. Pretty good condition for being secondhand, though.”

“I’ll say…” Larry brushes his fingers over the body of the guitar, then glances up sharply at Sal. “Have you learned how to play anything on it yet?”

Sal flushes and turns his eyes downward, staring at the guitar and shifting his weight. “Er… Well… Kind of. Not really. I got it pretty recently and have only been taking lessons for like a month. But there’s one song that I can sort of play. I’m working on it, anyways.”

“Nobody expects it to be perfect when you just started, Sally,” Larry says reassuringly. He sits back down and leans back. “So let’s hear it!”

“Uh… Okay,” he says, hooking the strap over his shoulder. He plays a few notes, adjusting the tuning and trying to hype himself up. “I… haven’t played with anyone listening yet.”

“You still aren’t. I’m not ‘anyone.’ Just pretend I’m not even here,” Larry says with a grin.

Sal shakes his head, smiling down at the guitar, and starts playing slowly. The speed picks up after a bit until it becomes recognizable, and Larry gapes at him.

“Dude!” he shouts excitedly, leaning forward in his seat. “Is that Meatalica‘s ‘For You the Bell Chimes?’”

Sal nods without looking up, eyes glued to his fingers on the strings. He holds perfectly still in his concentration, and when the song ends, the applause makes him jolt out of his stupor. He finally looks up to see Larry standing there clapping loudly, as if he’s giving an actual musician a standing ovation. Sal laughs and gently sets the guitar down on a chair, waiting until his friend sits back down to take a seat next to him.

“Man, I don’t know what you were talking about; that was awesome!”

“What?” Sal asks, giggling and shaking his head. “That was horrible! I messed up like five chords, and did you hear the way it _screeched_ in the middle?!”

Larry shrugs as if it couldn’t matter less. “I told you, nobody expects it to be perfect. Besides, that still way more than I could play. I don’t know a single chord!”

“You also haven’t been taking lessons for a month,” Sal counters, rolling his eyes.

“A _month_ , dude,” Larry echoes disbelievingly. “That’s _nothing_! Some musicians spend their entire lives learning! It’s really cool that you could pick it up so quickly!” He pauses, still grinning. “You’ll have to play for me again once you perfect it, though. That’ll take… what, like… another week?”

Sal chokes on a laugh and shakes his head, but decides to let it go. “What song do you think I should try out after I get this one down?”

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know what’d be easy to learn!”

He sighs. “Okay, then… What song do you think I should try at _some point_ in the future? What would you wanna hear me play?”

Larry considers this for a minute. “Well, it’s gotta be Sanity’s Fall, doesn’t it?” he says with a grin. “Maybe… ‘Singular?’”

Sal gives him a blinding smile and nods quickly. “Yeah… Yeah, I’d love to learn that one. It just seems… right, huh?” His smile turns shy and he looks back down at the guitar. “Take it all back to the beginning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the parody names, but I tried my hardest to read Larry’s backpack, and I swear to god, both my sister and I saw “Meatalica” haha


	10. Like a Lullaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um… So, in replaying the game in preparation for the last episode, I realized that I messed up in an earlier chapter and mentioned the walkie-talkies at a time when they’d already be broken. Oops. So this is partially an attempt to fix that, although it’s now out of order haha

“I brought you something,” Sal says as he enters Larry’s room one day, hands hidden behind his back. He’s shifting restlessly and staring at the ground, trying to act shy, but Larry can hear the mixed amusement and excitement in his tone.

He turns on the stool, shifting his attention from his painting to Sal. “What is it?” he asks. He can’t quite mask his own excitement, though his friend’s act is making him a bit nervous, too. Sal isn’t above pranks every once in a while.

Sal hums thoughtfully before saying, “Close your eyes.”

Larry squints at him for a moment, still wondering if this is some weird joke, but Sal just stares him down until he complies. “Fine, fine,” he says, listening as the other boy’s footsteps move around the room, echoing behind him and then directly in front of him again… and then to the door, which opens and shuts quickly. His brows furrow, and he waits a few seconds to see if Sal will return. He opens his eyes when he doesn’t, glancing around the room in confusion.

After a few seconds, there’s a sudden burst of static and a muffled voice that he can’t quite make out. Larry grins and hops off the stool, hunting around the room to find where Sal’s hidden the gift. “Sally Face!” he says triumphantly as he digs a walkie-talkie out of one of his drawers. “You replaced them!”

“I told you I would,” Sal says, “But that’s not the important thing right now. You peeked, didn’t you?” Larry can hear the pout in his voice, but when the buzz of the walkie-talkie shuts off, he can hear his best friend’s laughter coming from the living room.

He wanders out, grinning, and falls onto the couch next to Sal. “You’re the best, man,” he says, ruffling the blue hair. Sal swats his hand away but doesn’t put much effort into getting him to quit. Pigtails aren’t easily messed up, as Larry has been disappointingly reminded of time and time again since they met. The other boy glares at him, and after a few seconds, he realizes it’s not about the hair and lets out a laugh. Completely unconvincingly, he says, “I’m sorry I peeked. You freaked me out, though, just disappearing like that!”

“I didn’t disappear, I walked,” Sal retorts with a smirk.

Larry rolls his eyes to the ceiling with an amused huff. “Sass master,” he mutters, making Sal chuckle. After a minute, his head lulls to the side to look back at his friend and he says more sincerely, “Thank you, Sally Face.”

“No problem, Larry Face. The fee is that I’m keeping this one, though,” he says, holding up his own walkie-talkie with a teasing grin.

“Hmm… So I get one back, but I can _only_ talk to _you_ on it…” He goes silent for a minute, as if it actually takes any consideration, and then drawls, “Well, I _guess_ that’s alright…”

Sal smacks his arm lightly. “Hey! Who else could you _possibly_ want to talk to when you’ve already got me?”

“No one at all, buddy,” Larry answers with a laugh. He tries to make it sound sarcastic.

* * *

“Hey, Lar?” comes a quiet voice from his nightstand.

Larry blinks up at it for a minute, still half-asleep. Then he realizes that the voice is coming from the walkie-talkie and quickly snatches it. “What’s up, dude?” he asks, trying not to let on that Sal’s woken him up.

Apparently, it doesn’t work very well. Sal groans on the other end. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. It’s just…”

“Nightmares?” Larry asks.

“No, I just… I can’t fall asleep,” he eventually admits with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Wanna come down and watch some movies ‘til you get tired?”

“No… I know Lisa’s sick. I don’t wanna disturb her. Can you maybe just…” He trails off, and Larry waits for a minute before prodding him.

“Sally Face?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

Larry laughs. “Are you gonna finish what you were saying?”

“No, nevermind. It’s stupid.”

“Well, now I _have_ to know,” he teases. When Sal doesn’t reply, he says more gently, “Seriously, man. What was it? I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

There’s another long pause before Sal finally says quietly, “I was gonna ask if you could just… talk to me until I fall asleep. I know, I _told_ you it was dumb.”

“No, no!” Larry blurts out, though it takes him a minute to say anything more. The idea has its appeal. It sounds… strangely intimate. His mind get away from him for a moment, and he pictures each of them laying in the dark of their rooms while he whispers sweet nothings until Sal falls asleep. He resists the urge to smack the stupid image out of his head and says, “Of course I will, dude. If that’ll help you sleep.”

“…Really? You don’t have to humor me, you know.”

“Yes, really,” he replies, exasperated. “And I’m _not_ saying it just to humor you. You should know that by now.”

“Okay,” Sal says, still quiet and hesitant. Then there’s a few minutes of silence.

“So… What do you want me to talk about?” Larry eventually asks.

“I don’t know!” Sal sputters.

“…You’re blushing, aren’t you?” he can’t help but tease.

“I don’t know!” he repeats. “I thought this was supposed to be you being nice and helpful, not tormenting me!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop…” Larry says with a chuckle. “Talking about school would probably just stress you out and make you even _less_ likely to fall asleep, huh? Hmm… What do you wanna do for winter break?”

There’s a brief silence from the other end, and then an exaggerated sigh. “The whole point of this was for _you_ to talk, and for _me_ not to. I’ll never fall asleep that way, but I can tell that _you’re_ already halfway there. You’ll probably pass out the second you stop talking.”

“Probably,” he admits, laughing. “Sorry, it’s just… _really_ weird to have a one-sided conversation.” Sal pointedly doesn’t respond, so he sighs and says, “Alright, then I’ll just tell you what _I_ think we should do for winter break, then.”

Sal still doesn’t reply, and Larry starts getting those ridiculous warm, fuzzy feelings that have become so common lately. Sal’s probably only staying silent to make his point, but he’d like to think that he wouldn’t complain anyways because it’s just a forgone conclusion that they’ll spend vacations together.

“We should go to a ski resort,” Larry says. After a moment, he laughs. “I know that’s ridiculous, and neither of our families can afford it, but… Let’s save up. We’ll do it one year, and our parents won’t have to pay for a penny of it. Right now, though, we can just hang out around here. There’s a park a few blocks away with a huge hill we can go sledding on, and we can bundle up in giant piles of blankets out in the treehouse or in here and drink hot cocoa and apple cider. It’ll be Christmas soon, too. Maybe we can convince our parents to all do a… thing together.” He lets the button go and gives himself a minute to recover from his near slip-up. ‘A family thing,’ he’d almost said, _And wouldn’t that have been a disaster?_ Whichever way Sal took it, it wouldn’t have led to anything good.

He takes a deep breath and continues on. “You’ll have to tell me what you want. Not right now, obviously, since you’re refusing to talk right now, but… Think about it. I wanna get you something you’ll really like.”

“Imagine it, though: you, me, my mom, and your dad… a little feast for just the four of us, and of course we’ll take some to Gizmo, too… A Christmas tree with a few presents piled under it for each of us… Some lame Christmas cartoons and my mom’s old holiday music CD… until she gives in and lets us play some metal, anyways. The only thing it’ll be missing is a nice, warm fire, but we can turn the heat up and put the TV on one of those channels with the fake fireplaces.” He pauses to laugh. The whole thing really is a ridiculous scene, even in his own head, but if he has free reign to blurt out all his sappy wishes, he’s going to take it. Except… _Mistletoe,_ his mind suddenly supplies, and… No, that one can remain unsaid. And undone. Probably. _But maybe…_

“Maybe we should do a little gift exchange or something with Ash and Todd, too,” Larry continues, just to shut up his stupid brain. “I’m sure they’d be happy if we got Neil in on it, too… I know we can’t all afford to get each other presents, but we could do a Secret Santa thing, or maybe a tiny version of that White Elephant thing. I don’t know. We can talk to them about it later and see what they think.”

When he eventually runs out of things to say about the holidays and break, he talks about the latest painting he’s been working on. (Since Sal still isn’t replying, he can only hope it doesn’t have anything to do with one of his nightmares.  It’s supposed to be a happy picture, but he can never really predict the weird ways their minds seem to connect.) Then he talks about the book he’s reading, and Vampire Hunter B (which they’re still watching together every week), and some new bands he wants to introduce Sal to.

Somewhere along the line, Larry realizes that he’s lost his self-consciousness about the fact that he’s practically talking to himself. He also realizes that he’s gotten much quieter as he’s gone on, to the point that his voice is barely above a whisper when he finally stops. There’s a long pause before he admits, “I don’t know what else to talk about.”

He glances at the clock on his nightstand, watching it tick from 3:13 to 3:14 before he speaks again. “Sal?” Another pause. “Seriously, if you want me to keep going, you’ll have to say something. I’m out of steam, so if you _don’t_ say anything, then I’m just gonna go back to bed.”

There’s still no reply. “You asleep, dude?” he gives it two more minutes before he finally says, “Alright, sleep tight, Sally Face.”

* * *

It quickly becomes a regular occurrence. Sal buzzes him on the walkie-talkie almost every night, and Larry rambles on about whatever pops into his head until his friend falls asleep and he himself is exhausted. It’s a little worrying, but then again, Sal’s had trouble sleeping for as long as he’s known him. He’s glad to do whatever he can to help, and a little flattered that ‘whatever he can do’ is apparently just let Sal listen to his voice for however long it takes to lull him to sleep.

Sometimes, it doesn’t work quite as well as planned. Sometimes, he starts talking and Sal can’t resist answering. Then they stay up well into the night talking, completely forgetting that that’s the exact opposite of their goal. It’s fun, though.

It’s addictive.

Even though everyone says they’re inseparable, they can’t _really_ be together 24/7, of course. It feels like they are when they spend their days hanging out and their nights chatting about everything and nothing on the walkie-talkies, though. Larry finds himself losing a lot of sleep just from waiting up for whenever Sal will call him. On the rare nights when Sal _doesn’t_ ask him for help falling asleep, he ends up staying awake the whole night waiting. He knows it’s probably not healthy, but it’s worth it.

He also knows they could just use the phones for this. They wouldn’t end up cut off in the middle of a sentence when they finally get too tired to keep holding a button down, and they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else randomly tuning in to their frequency. But it feels more like their little secret this way, something special just for them.

(It’s not _really_ a secret, of course. Every morning that he comes out bleary-eyed to meet Sal before they walk to school, Lisa gives him a tiny, knowing smile. In fact, she probably knows a lot more than that they stay up way too late talking sometimes. If his mom was anyone other than who she is, it would probably bother him more.)

* * *

“Larry?”

“Yeah, I’m here, man,” Larry replies as he grabs the walkie-talkie from it’s usual spot on the nightstand. He’s been sitting on his bed, leaning back against the wall, reading while he waits.

There’s a short silence. Usually by now, he’s started talking. Sal never has to ask anymore; Larry just starts rambling on as soon as he calls. But… “I can’t think of anything to talk about,” he admits sheepishly.

“Really? I thought you always have something to say,” Sal teases.

“Yeah, maybe I’m just distracted,” he answers, ignoring the jibe.

“What’s so distracting?” his friend asks. It’s still surprising sometimes that he’s _actually_ interested in Larry’s life and thoughts, that he’s not just faking it to be polite. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Maybe that’s the result of growing up with so few friends.

“Um… I was just reading. I guess my head’s still kind of stuck in the book.”

“What book is it?”

Larry flips the book around to see the cover. “ _Lord of the Flies_. It’s about a bunch of schoolboys who get stuck on an island, and it basically makes them go crazy and power-hungry and start killing each other and shit.” He pauses and laughs uncomfortably. “It’s actually _really_ fucked up, dude. And they have us reading this _for class_!”

“Sounds interesting, though. It’s obviously holding your attention.”

“Yeah, it actually really is. It’s been a while since I got this into a book. I think most of the required books at school have put me off reading.”

Sal hums in understanding. After a few seconds, he says, “Read to me?”

“What?” Larry asks, caught off guard.

“If you don’t have anything to talk about, then you should just… read to me,” he repeats, sounding embarrassed.

“I can’t believe you’re getting shy about this again,” Larry replies with a laugh. “It’s cool, dude. We’ve been doing this for… what, like a month now? No different for me to read than to just talk. Are you sure you wanna hear _this_ book, though? It’s not exactly pleasant bedtime story material.”

There’s no reply, and he’s not sure if it’s because Sal’s feeling awkward again and doesn’t want to answer, or if it’s because he’s trying to make a point by shutting up and forcing him to talk again. Either way, he takes it as his cue to open up the book and read, starting over from the beginning so the other boy won’t miss anything.

* * *

There’s a loud sigh, and then Larry can hear the rustling of Sal’s sleeping bag as he sits up. “What’s wrong?” he asks, staring at Sal’s barely-visible silhouette in the dark.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Sal reaches up and flicks on the lamp by the bed. Larry blinks in the sudden blinding light while his friend just stares at him. “I can’t sleep,” he says after a minute.

“I’m sorry, man… You want some tea or some melatonin or something?”

“No, I just… I can’t fall asleep without you talking anymore. Like, it’s almost impossible. I tried three days in a row and barely got any sleep. It’s… gotten pretty ridiculous, actually,” Sal says with a bitter laugh.

 _Ah, that explains it,_ Larry thinks. He’d been painfully aware of those three days, because he’d barely slept himself, mind keeping him wide awake while he waited for Sal’s call. (Not that he’d mentioned it. Sal didn’t need to know just how deep this _need_ to be around him, to talk to him at all hours, ran.) “Uh… Okay… You want me to read to you again?” he asks, stilted.

The other boy nods, and after a moment, he lets out a real laugh. “Look at you! You’re always making fun of _me_ for getting embarrassed about this, but _you’re_ blushing all the way up to the tips of your ears now!”

“It’s different when you can see me!” Larry says defensively. “It’s just weird, okay?”

“How?” he challenges.

“It just is!”

“Alright, alright,” Sal relents, squirming his way back down into the sleeping bag. “What if I close my eyes? Then I can’t see you, and everything should be fine, right?”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’ll solve the problem, dude,” Larry mutters, but he huffs out a sigh and grabs the latest book they’ve been working their way through each night anyways. He pauses after a few pages to watch Sal’s contented smile as he rests with his eyes still closed. Larry’s embarrassment fades the longer he reads, and Sal’s presence so close by goes from being a source of anxiety to one of calm. He knows that they’ll both be sleeping peacefully soon enough.


	11. All I Want for Christmas is You

When winter break finally arrives, they do everything that Larry had said they would. They spend their days sledding or hanging out with Todd or Megan, and their evenings are spent huddled up with warm drinks, talking or watching movies.

Even Christmas happens exactly how he’d planned, although it takes a few weeks of convincing (and maybe just a tiny bit of childish whining) for Sal to get his father to agree to the whole event. Once he’s there, though, it’s like it’s exactly where he wanted to be. Henry spends half the day helping Lisa with the meal preparation and smiles more than he has since before Diane’s death. Sal watches him and can’t help but smile too.

Larry watches _Sal_ and can’t help but smile, either.

They exchange gifts while they wait for the food to finish cooking. The parents get boring but functional gifts that their kids had clued them in on. (Lisa had wanted a new toolset because the other residents kept “borrowing” her tools; Henry had wanted a new keyboard because the space bar kept sticking no matter how he tried to fix it.) Sal waits to open his gift last, and Larry can tell from the way he’s watching him and bouncing his leg that he’s nervous.

“Thanks, Sally Face!” he says, grinning as he opens up the new set of paints. They’re not the cheap kind, and he feels a twinge of guilt at the thought of how long it must’ve taken Sal to save up for. He pushes it down in favor of pulling his friend into a hug, though, because he knows Sal will only be more anxious if he makes a big deal about it. “I can’t wait to use these!” Larry stares at one of the tubes of blue paint, hoping it’s the same color on canvas as it is on the tube and wondering if Sal would let him paint him.

“I’m glad you like it,” Sal says, relief clear in his voice.

“Open yours now!”

“Okay, okay,” he says with a laugh, tearing open the paper. The small box gives no hint as to what’s inside, so he rips at the tape until he manages to get it open. “What on…?” he starts quietly before trailing off into nothing.

Larry had thought it was a fun idea when he bought the gift, but now he just feels nauseous as he realizes that he may have offended Sal. “Shit,” he says, ignoring his mother’s quiet tsking at the language. “I’m sorry, Sal. That was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? I swear I didn’t mean to—”

“ _What?_ ” Sal practically shrieks. “What are you talking about, Larry? This is fucking awesome!” Lisa tsks him as well, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“That’s alright, Sal. What is it?” she asks curiously.

He pulls the little wooden stand out of the box and holds it out, careful not to let the contents roll off of it. “Different colors of glass eyes,” he says excitedly. “These are so cool!” Turning back to Larry, he adds with a mischievous laugh, “Can you imagine how everyone at school would react if I came in with one red eye?”

“Dude, half the teachers already think you’re a demon,” Larry teases. He’d been really careful about saying things like that at first, but soon enough it became clear that Sal really didn’t care. He wasn’t offended easily; he was too used to putting up with _actual_ bullies tormenting him throughout his life to be bothered by a well-meaning joke from a good friend.

“But the other half will have just as much fun as I do with it,” Sal says, a grin in his voice.

“The black could be fun for some sort of Halloween costume,” Lisa suggests with a smile.

Larry barks out a laugh. “Mom, we’re like… Ten months away from Halloween.”

She shrugs. “Never too early to start planning,” she counters, “Especially if you want to make something really unique.”

“That’s a good idea. Thanks, Lisa,” Sal says, cutting the conversation off before Larry can argue with her any more.

“Is that all of them?” she asks, peeking under the tree. Sal is closer, so he peers under and nods. “Alright. I should get back to cooking, then.”

“Do you want any help, Lisa?” Sal asks.

“You know she won’t,” Larry says, rolling his eyes.

Henry stands and follows her into the kitchen. “I think we’ve got it covered. You boys should relax and put on the TV or something.”

Sal and Larry exchange a look, falling into quiet giggles once their parents are out of the room. “Christmas cartoons?” Sal asks, and Larry nods and grabs the remote.

“That’s pretty much all that’s on today anyways,” he says, flipping the guide open.

“Too bad we can’t listen to lame holiday CDs at the same time,” his friend teases.

“I thought you were asleep the whole time I was talking about all this,” Larry says accusingly.

“Nope. I mean, I wasn’t _fully_ awake, but I was conscious enough to remember what you said about Christmas the next day.” After a moment, Sal stands and rushes into the kitchen, throwing over his shoulder, “I know what we _can_ do, though. Hold on one sec!”

Larry stares after him, shaking his head before turning back to the TV and changing the channel to the first movie he finds that’s near the beginning. A hand appears in his line of sight a minute later, dropping a cup onto the coffee table in front of him. He sniffs it, catches a whiff of cinnamon, and grins. “Thanks, Sally,” he says, taking a long sip.

Sal just nods and settles onto the couch next to him, leaning against his side and pulling a blanket off the back of the couch to cover them. “What are we watching?” he asks curiously.

“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” Larry answers, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I haven’t seen this since I was like five.”

“I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen it,” Sal says, sounding surprised at the realization. “Hasn’t _every_ kid watched it?”

“Obviously not, if you haven’t,” Larry says with a laugh. Sal elbows him in the side in retaliation, but he just reels him in closer and keeps grinning. “Shh, if you haven’t seen the movie before then you gotta pay attention now.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got the basic idea from the song,” Sal says dryly.

“Shh!” Larry insists, pressing a finger to his lips. The other boy laughs but complies, turning his focus to the TV. They watch in silence the whole way through, aside from the occasional giggle and Larry singing along, purposefully off-key, to “We’re a Couple of Misfits.”

“That was… just as stupid as I remembered,” Larry says when it’s over, but he’s grinning.

Sal shrugs. “It wasn’t _that_ bad.” Larry levels an unconvinced look at him, and he chuckles. “Okay, it was pretty bad. But it’s a classic, so at least now I can finally say I’ve seen it.”

His friend nods and reaches to turn the television off, but Sal snatches the remote off the table before he can grab it. “Wait!” he says, switching the channel and disappearing into Larry’s room. It takes Larry a minute of confusion before he even registers what Sal’s done; there’s a flickering fireplace on the television, and the other boy reappears moments later with the covers from Larry’s bed and the blanket he leaves on the beanbag chairs. He tosses them onto Larry and cranks the thermostat up before joining him.

“I think this might be a little _too_ warm,” Larry says, burrowing his way out of the blanket nest.

“It was _your_ idea,” Sal counters, nestling deeper. He tends to run cold and seems to be perfectly content now, so Larry sighs and decides to just deal with it.

* * *

It’s not long before Lisa’s calling the boys in for dinner. They pile into the kitchen and take their seats across from their parents. There’s some stilted conversation, but they mostly eat in silence. Sal alternates between staring at his plate and shoving food around it, and staring at his father while he pushes his mask up slightly to eat.

“Okay, what’s up, man?” Larry asks when their parents leave the room for a minute.

Sal stays silent for a few seconds, then swallows. “It’d be weird if we were brothers, right?” he asks quietly.

“…Why do you ask?” Larry counters hesitantly.

Sal shrugs uncomfortably. “I dunno. I just… noticed that Dad’s been smiling a lot today.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks, confused.

“No, it’s just… weird. Not that he’s smiling, but that Lisa’s the _reason_ he’s smiling so much. I’m happy for him, but it’s… weird, too.” He’s getting quieter and quieter as he talks, and Larry’s brows furrow in concern.

“It’s okay if you’re _not_ happy about it, you know.”

“Is it?” Sal asks disbelievingly, shooting him a look but not quite meeting his eyes. “I don’t think he’s been this happy since—”

“Are you boys alright?” Lisa asks as she reenters the room. “You look upset.”

Sal shrugs and forces a smile into his voice. “It’s fine. I was just thinking about something stupid, and Larry was telling me I shouldn’t worry about it.”

Lisa keeps staring at him worriedly for a minute, but drops it once she realizes that he really doesn’t want to talk about it. “Alright,” she sighs. She looks at their now empty plates and nods towards the living room. “You boys should take care of your dishes and go play in the snow or something.”

“It’s snowing?” Sal asks excitedly, rushing to the window. He turns back to Larry, all traces of his previous melancholy gone. “Let’s go!”

“Sure, buddy,” Larry says, shooting his mom a grateful smile. She nods in return, and they wash their plates and start heading outside. Before they even make it all the way out of the kitchen, Lisa clears her throat expectantly, and the boys pause and turn back around. “Did we forget something?” Larry asks, confused. She says nothing, only giving them a badly-disguised grin and pointing over their heads. They look up, and Larry flushes bright red. “ _Mom!_ ”

“What?” she asks innocently. “It’s a holiday tradition.”

“But—I— _Mom_!” he repeats, sure that his face is about to catch on fire from how hot it feels. Larry can’t quite bring himself to look at his friend, but he does manage to sputter out, “Sal, you—just—you don’t have to—Mom’s just being weird.”

Sal stares at Lisa for a long moment, head tilted thoughtfully. Then he glances to Larry, and up at the mistletoe hanging in the doorway, and over to the bathroom door again to make sure it’s still shut tight and his father isn’t going to walk back out at any moment. Then his eyes jump back to Larry again, and he lunges up on his toes suddenly to kiss his cheek (or his mask does, at least). It only lasts for a few moments, but a flash goes off in that time and they both look over to see Lisa holding a camera, not even attempting to hide her grin anymore.

“You boys are so cute,” she says unapologetically.

Larry opens his mouth, but no words come out. After a minute, he just sighs, shakes his head, and grabs Sal’s arm to pull him out to the living room, through his bedroom, and into the backyard. They fall into the snow, Sal starting to make a snow angel and Larry just staring up at the falling flakes. Larry still can’t meet his friend’s eyes when he says, “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Sal replies, sounding almost nervous. He shakes it off, forcing a smile into his voice when he echoes jokingly, “But it’s a holiday tradition.”

Larry finally turns to look at him, staring for a while before shaking his head again. He grins. “Sometimes I really don’t get what’s going on inside your head, man.”

Sal just shrugs. “You should probably be glad for that,” he says, chuckling quietly.

“Seriously, though,” Larry says, sobering. “What was that back there? Are you alright?” He asks partially because he’s really worried about his friend, and partially because he _needs to know_. He needs to have this false hope squashed before it has a chance to grow into anything substantial.

“It was nothing,” he answers, shaking his head with a sigh. “I was just being selfish.”

“You’re allowed to be selfish once in a while,” Larry says, glancing over at him. “It doesn’t happen often with you; nobody could hold it against you.”

“I know, but… _I’d_ hold it against me. I can’t do that to my dad. He deserves to be happy just as much as everyone else.”

“Can I ask why you _don’t_ want it?” Sal shrugs again, and Larry waits a long minute to see if he’ll say anything more, but nothing comes. “Alright. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says eventually, but on the inside he’s screaming in frustration. He’s sure that Sal isn’t put off by the idea of them being brothers for the reasons he’s thinking, but he needs it to be said aloud to kill off that little seed of hope. Besides, the only alternative he can think of is… too painful, and he’s sure it’s not true. Sal’s too nice and they’re too close for him to want Larry out of his life. The whole day has proven it, with all of Sal’s attempts to make the stupid little fantasy he babbled out that night into reality. (Still, there’s a seed of self-doubt and terror living right next to the one of hope, and it’s been growing infinitely faster no matter how much he’s tried to nip it in the bud.)

“Thanks, Lar,” Sal says, sighing one more time. Then he shrugs it off and holds his arms up in the air. “Now help me up, since _you’re_ not doing anything. Your snow angel looks more like a snow lump,” he says smugly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Larry says, rolling his eyes. He pushes himself off and brushes the snow off his ass, trying to ignore the horrible feeling of wet jeans. “Up ya go!” he says, pulling Sal up as smoothly as possible. Sal turns, and they stare at his snow angel for a minute. “Well, at least it’s better than mine,” Larry concludes with a laugh.

“Yeah, it’s… not great,” Sal admits, giggling. Somewhat sulkily, he adds, “I think perfect snow angels are a _myth_.”

“I’m… pretty sure they’re not, dude,” his friend teases. “There are _definitely_ people who have managed to make them.”

“Well, _I’ve_ never met those people, so I don’t believe it,” he says, the laughter he’s trying to hold back shining through in his voice and ruining his attempt at a pout.

“If you say so,” Larry agrees, still laughing. “What do you say we make a snowman? I don’t have any coal, but we could use rocks, and we’ve probably got a carrot somewhere.”

“I haven’t made a snowman in years!” Sal says, practically bouncing in excitement. He tugs on his scarf in example and pulls his earmuffs down around his neck. “And I’ve got a scarf and earmuffs to finish it off!”

“Awesome, let’s do it.”

* * *

By the time they come back inside, both boys are soaked from head to toe, red-cheeked from the cold, and grinning so widely it hurts. “I’m glad you two had fun,” Lisa says with a grin of her own when she sees them.

Larry nods and immediately falls onto the couch, shivering. He tries to grab a blanket, but his mother pulls it out of his reach with a roll of her eyes. “Go change first,” she scolds lightly, laughing. “Sal, you can borrow something of Larry’s if you don’t want to track snow upstairs.”

Sal tilts his head questioningly, and Larry shrugs. “Fine with me,” he agrees. “Hold on, I’ll go grab you something.”

Sal nods, standing in the middle of the living room and trying not touch anything. Lisa stays there, smiling unnervingly at him, and he crosses his arms. It’s tempting to ask what she’s so happy about, but after the mistletoe mishap, he’s not sure he really wants to know. Luckily, it’s only a minute before Larry comes out with a pair of sweatpants and one of his Sanity’s Fall shirts, and Sal books it into the bathroom to change.

Larry returns to his bedroom to change into warmer clothes himself, and when he comes back out, he’s frozen in his doorway. “Lookin’ good,” he chokes, trying to make it sound like a joke. He joins Sal on the couch, pulling over the blanket that Lisa had finally released to him, and tries not to stare too much.

Sal tugs on the shirt for a minute. Then he admits almost shyly, “I like it,” and Larry immediately decides that he will find every possible excuse in the future to get Sal to wear his clothes.

Lisa chuckles and hits the radio on her way out of the room. A Corn riff starts up, albeit a bit quieter than he would usually play it himself, and Larry grins, giving her a thumbs up as thanks. Sal leans into his shoulder, eyes drifting shut in exhaustion.

It feels like the perfect end to a day that’s been a completely different kind of strange than their usual.

(Sal falls asleep there after a while, Larry following close behind, and Lisa snaps another picture. Larry might be annoyed when he sees it, but she knows he’ll thank her for it eventually.)


End file.
